


Spencer Reid One Shots

by creativewoman88



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, F/M, I hope I did him right, Mostly Fluff, Reid being amazing, Some angst, cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativewoman88/pseuds/creativewoman88
Summary: One-shots of Spencer and his girlfriend. No real time-line established, but Maeve never happened just because I want to sidestep that trauma. I am writing these as I think about them, so just think of these as bits and pieces of his life with the woman he loves.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 37





	1. Coming Out As Asexual To Your Boyfriend, Spencer Reid

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Criminal Minds or the characters you recognize from the show. As for my original character, I never give her a name so she can really be anybody.

"Spence?"

She was saying his name hesitantly, in-between kisses, her hands tugging at his hair just a bit.

"Yes?"

They had gone out for a movie and then coffee to talk about the movie. During the film – a foreign one that she had let him talk her into seeing – he'd translated the words into English, whispered them to her, sometimes making her laugh because apparently it tickled.

Everything had been going great. She didn't mind that he preferred walking to driving and had parked her car outside his apartment so they could walk together. When they'd gotten back, she'd even gone inside with him, had allowed him to kiss her – not that that was anything new. They'd been kissing for six months now.

What was different was that they'd made it to the bedroom. They still had their clothes on and had barely even begun doing anything that might actually shut his mind up, but the kisses and caresses were sincere and he liked that he knew she meant them.

"Would you be terribly upset if I said this is all I wanted?"

That threw him off just a bit. "Why would I be upset? We don't have to rush."

She pushed against him a bit and he scooted back onto his knees.

"No, I mean, if this is all I wanted ever. I'm – I don't. Well, first off, I've never had sex and second, I've never wanted to have sex."

When Spencer didn't answer right away, she seemed desperate to get the rest of it out.

"It's not like I think it's disgusting or anything – although, it kind of actually is, now that I think about it – but I just have never felt the need to. If that makes sense . . . I – I probably could if –"

"No," he said.

"No?"

"I mean, no, don't do it for me. It's – I would never, if you didn't want to."

"I – I wanted to tell you before, I just . . . I didn't know how."

Spencer could tell she was waiting for him to get mad at her or tell her that she wasn't enough now that he knew about her. He'd always noticed a certain amount of distance she'd kept from him when they would kiss, like she was holding herself back. He'd always thought she was doing it for him, because he was new to all this relationship stuff. He had been wrong.

"How long have you known that you were asexual?"

"Well, I didn't know that was a thing until a couple years ago. I just thought I was broken or something. All through high school I watched my friends date and heard them talk about sex and some of them liked it and others weren't too excited, which . . . I think had more to do with who they had sex with, but anyway, I just . . . didn't date or have sex and I kind of thought it was stupid. But then my only thought of high school was graduating so I could get out.

"I blamed my lack of a sex drive on me focusing on my academics and that followed me all the way through college. I was too busy learning to worry about boys or any of that stuff. And then I realized that maybe sex might not be so bad even if I'm not interested in it, but I'd much rather read a book or watch a movie or have a really good conversation. I mean, I can . . . I can still feel pleasure, I just don't need it. I . . . I don't know if I'm explaining it right."

Spencer rolled to his side, taking in everything she'd said. Had she only been doing the physical stuff to make him happy? Or whatever physical stuff they had worked their way up to, anyway.

He'd met her a little over a year ago. He'd gone to the library, seen her struggling to reach a book on the top shelf and had gotten it for her. He'd noticed the book she'd been trying to get to – a book most people probably hadn't heard of because it definitely wasn't a bestseller – and had asked her about it.

She'd been making her way through every author the library had. She would try a new one every time she visited. She didn't want to get stuck reading the same thing all the time. Usually every author had a pattern and it came through in all of their stories. Once you figured out the pattern the story became boring because you could predict what was going to happen. Hence, trying different authors.

Her favorite genre was fantasy, though, because reality sucked sometimes. Her words, not his, although they were true enough.

"You . . . you seem to like the things we do."

"I do! I do, I – I love the things we do. I still very much like kissing and hugging and being close to you. I just – I don't want to have sex with you. That sounds so bad, like, it's not you though. In fact, you're the first guy I've ever actually been interested in and I think you're adorable and sweet and I love your brain, okay? The way you can just spout out facts, and the way you talk about things you love like Star Wars and Doctor Who because you're a big nerd. And I love that you're so tall and can reach high places for me and you will because you'd rather do that than have me climb and risk falling and hurting myself. And your hair, I like playing with your hair and you like me playing with your hair, especially when you've just gotten back from a case, and it took you so long to let me do it the first time, but now you let me do it whenever I want. And your smile, I love your smile. I just, I want to smile with you when you smile because it means you're happy and I want to be happy with you. I very much could see myself being with you for the rest of my life, but not if – not if it's not okay, because I don't want you to resent me for keeping something from you that you want."

Spencer's eyes kept getting wider and wider as she went on. He hadn't expected her to say that much – who besides him even talked that much? Her, apparently. He'd only wanted to make sure he hadn't been making her feel pressured to kiss him and all those other things; he hadn't meant to make her feel like she needed to explain herself to him.

He turned to her, slowly placing his hand on her cheek to get her to look at him. She had tears in her eyes, and he never wanted to see that, especially not over something like this.

"You forgot to add in something else that I talk about a lot because I love it."

She shook her head. "That's what you took away from –"

"You."

Her breath caught in her throat and even more tears fell.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We still need to talk about this because I never want to make you feel uncomfortable or that you have to do something for me, so we need to talk boundaries if you have any other than no sex and –"

"Spence?"

"Hm?"

"I've never been in a relationship before, so I don't know if I have any other than that. But I promise to let you know if I don't like something we're doing." She scooted closer to him and kissed him quickly. "It – it really doesn't matter?"

"It doesn't matter. I don't care if we never have sex. Those other things are important too. You listen when I talk about the things I love, and you don't cut me off when I spout facts – sometimes you even remember them. And I'm kind of glad you're short because I do get to do things for you that you can do for yourself but let me do anyway. I do like you playing with my hair. It's . . . it's nice and it makes me feel better when I get home from seeing something awful. I don't – I can't forget what I see, but I know you're there when you do things like that."

Spencer didn't let many people touch him like that. His team, of course, but outside of them it was pretty much just her. When he got home from a case, sometimes he would just go to her house and plop down on her couch and she would know he needed her close. Sometimes they wouldn't even talk. They would just lay there and hold onto each other – or she would hold onto him.

Once he was feeling better, they would usually go out for food because she knew he sometimes forgot to eat when he was hyper-focused on a case. She took care of him as much as he took care of her, just in different ways. She made him see the beautiful things again when all he could focus on was the ugly he'd seen at work.

"We have so much fun together. I don't think anyone else has ever made me laugh so much. And if – if you're really wanting to be my always, then it doesn't matter."

"Your always?"

"I don't know, it sounded more permanent than my girlfriend."

She turned her face to hide against his shirt before reaching for his hand. They'd been around each other long enough he couldn't really complain about germs, and he really didn't mind with her. She'd always respected his boundaries when they'd first gotten to know each other, had waited for him to initiate contact until she knew it was welcome.

"So we can be each other's always?"

"Absolutely."


	2. The Way They Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically how they met - the scene Spencer was thinking about in the first one.

"Enjoy your three-day weekend," Hotch said as Spencer and Emily got onto the elevator that led out of the BAU department of the FBI bureau at Quantico.

They rarely had time off, but each of the team members tried to take time for themselves when they did. Sometimes they went out together to unwind, but for the most part they needed space. They spent so much time with each other at work, it was healthy to get away from each other for a while.

Hotch and JJ had families to go home to. Morgan had girls he wanted to see. Rossi had more money than he knew what to do with. Penelope did . . . technology stuff that Spencer didn't understand – he was a genius but he also was a paper type of person; he wasn't great with technology. Emily sometimes went out, but she also spent time with her cat, Sergio.

Spencer had a list of things he could do on his own when he had time off: chess in the park, going to a book store or a library, reading at home, watching one of his favorite shows. He would've loved to have been able to do those things with his team, but most of them were not into the same things he was.

Spencer was planning on going to the library on his way home so he could have new books to read over the weekend. Most of the time he went to the library, got a batch of books to take home, and then he would go to the bookstore and buy the ones he liked the most. He took longer to read books he read for fun because he wanted to savor them, but he could still read faster than anyone else he knew.

The people who worked in the library all knew him by name now and even asked him his opinion when he brought books back. He tried not to spoil anything but still be honest when he talked about what he'd read.

He had been buried in the stacks for over an hour when he heard soft muttering coming from the aisle in front of him. The voice belonged to a female, strong but also quiet, and she seemed to be struggling with something if the irritated, "Seriously," he heard was anything to go by.

He listened for about a minute before going to see what was going on that was worth getting irritated over, and that was when he saw her. A young woman was there, a small basket of books at her feet, and she was reaching for a book on the top shelf. She was on the short side and she was having trouble.

"Would you like me to get that for you?"

The woman startled and quickly turned to face him. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open as if she'd been about to make a noise, but she brought her hand up to block it.

"I'm, uh – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

She shook her head and brought her hand away from her mouth so she could speak. "No, it's – it's fine. I wasn't paying attention." She looked up at the top shelf. "Could you? It's, um, the one by Wilkie Collins. Moonstone."

Spencer had no problem reaching it and she thanked him when he handed it over.

"So, uh, what drew you to this? It's not a bestseller and it's likely that not a lot of people have heard of it."

"Oh, I haven't heard of it either. I just, um . . . I'm trying out different authors. One or two from a different one every time I come here to check out books. I like seeing the different writing styles. Plus, if you read enough of one person you kind of pick up on the pattern they use and then the book becomes predictable."

Spencer looked down and noticed her choices – mystery, medical, historical, fantasy. There were about ten books in all. The library allowed books to be checked out for a total of three weeks.

"Are you actually going to read all of those?"

He noticed her cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Probably not. I get so many because if I get bored with one, I won't finish reading it. This way I don't have to come back so soon. I've tried each genre and these are usually my go-to ones. Fantasy is my all-time favorite because reality sucks and I need to get away sometimes, and I was kind of skeptical to try the medical ones because I . . . have no real knowledge of medicine, but they've been good so far. I even read one about how some doctor set out to prove that the Salem Witch trials were actually caused by people hallucinating after consuming poppy seed."

"That's probably not accurate," Spencer said. "Poppy seed comes from the opium poppy, which is used in morphine, heroine, and codeine. They've been known to cause lightheadedness, drowsiness, nausea, stomach ache, and itchy skin. I don't think it's supposed to cause hallucinations."

"Oh. Well, good thing it was fictional and not factual or someone would be having a bad day in the science world." She placed the book in her basket. "Are you – are you a doctor or something?"

This time Spencer was the one with the pink cheeks.

"Not a medical one, but I do have Dr. in front of my name. Spencer Reid."

"Spencer," she said. "Well, it was nice to meet you."

She told him her name as well. He noticed she didn't try to shake his hand and wondered if her reason was the same as his.

"Thank you again for getting that book for me. The whole world discriminates against short people."

"Actually, the average height for women over twenty is five-feet-four-inches. You were only off by maybe two."

The woman shook her head and grinned. "Says the really tall guy."

"I am above average in height, yes."

"Oh, he brags."

"Is – is it really bragging if it's true, though?"

Spencer was enjoying himself with the quick back and forth with this woman. There was a playfulness in her eyes, but there was also a warm type of intelligence that he found himself wanting to get to know. It was something that was totally different and set apart from what he had to deal with at work and he knew that was why he was being drawn to it.

"Hey, um, I hope this isn't weird or forward, but would you like to maybe get coffee sometime? I – I've enjoyed talking to you. I don't often come across a fellow book-lover."

She smiled and he noticed it reached her eyes. They kind of sparkled.

"I would like that. I totally understand about not finding many people who like to read – or at least not as much as I like to read."

She pulled out her phone and let him put his number in it and then she texted him right away so he would have hers. He liked that she did it right away; he didn't have to worry if she was ever going to contact him.

They talked a little bit more about books as he began picking his selection out as well. He stuck with non-fiction and science-fiction and then they walked up to the front to check the books out.

When they made it through the line and out the door of the library she turned to him and said, "So . . . were you wanting to go this weekend, or . . . ?"

"Uh, that's fine. I have all weekend off."

She sent him a small smile. "Me too. Um . . . so morning or evening or . . . ?"

"Honestly, I like to sleep in when I can, so it probably won't be before noon."

"Ah, fellow night-owl, huh?"

"Yeah, it's –"

"The night is peaceful. No one's around making unnecessary noise. Other people are usually sleeping so they're not bothering you either – or maybe not bothering, maybe that's too harsh of a word. It's more -

Spencer furrowed his brow. "Quiet?"

"Yeah. Like I said, peaceful. But, uh, after noon it is. Just, you know, call or text to let me know when."

"I'll definitely call."

He hated texting.

She nodded, resituated her basket of books – so the basket obviously belonged to her – and gave him a small wave before taking off in the direction of the parking lot.

It was weird, but he almost couldn't wait to have coffee with her, couldn't wait to get to know her better, talk to her about other things.

He'd had crushes before, of course, and he hadn't ever really talked to most of them, but he had talked to her and he'd really liked what she'd had to say.

He really couldn't wait to have coffee with her.


	3. Coffee Date?

Spencer didn't want to seem too enthusiastic, so he actually waited until Saturday to call her to ask her out for coffee the next day.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything," he said.

"Nope. Just a little take home work."

"Ah. So you're off this weekend but not really off this weekend."

"That's me pretty much every weekend. I, uh, I direct a local youth center and I pretty much have paperwork I have to complete even when I'm off.

"Oh, you like working with kids?"

"Yeah, it's great. It's important for kids to have adult role models, so I tried to create a safe but fun environment for kids to come to if they want to hang out."

"That sounds great."

He gave her his address so she could drive to his apartment building the next day and when she did he asked if it was okay if they walked to the place since it wasn't that far.

She seemed taken aback but she also didn't seem to mind it, which was good. He kept about a foot apart from her as they were walking and she didn't seem to mind that either. It wasn't awkward or anything and they kept up a steady flow of conversation. Mostly he just asked about her.

He started out with "So, when did you decide you wanted to manage a youth center?"

"Well, I originally went to school to study English Literature and get a degree in education. Then I studied the education field and realized I didn't really like the politics behind the public-school system and decided against becoming a teacher. I then changed my focus to child development and psychology and . . . well, I work full-time as a guidance counselor, but I also work at the youth center. It's my baby. I handle all the decision-making, but I have friends that help out with the kids, so I know I can trust the people working with them. My work schedule is great because most of the kids don't show up until after school anyway."

"Wow. You must stay busy."

"It's a little less hectic in the summer," she said. "But I like it."

"What made you decide to want to work with kids?"

"Honestly? Mostly because I wish I'd had a place to go when I was a kid. I was so lost during my teenage years, I wish I'd had someone to help guide me along, help me figure myself out. I waited so long to go to college because I didn't know what I wanted to do, and then wasted my time with the education degree. I wish I'd had someone to help me find my focus. You know?"

When they made it to the coffee shop, they paused their conversation so they could order. It wasn't a date, so they paid separately. Spencer noticed she ordered a medium French Vanilla cappuccino with extra creamer. She noticed he used a lot of sugar in his coffee, but she didn't say anything about it. She just widened her eyes and let out a huff of laughter.

"I love the boost from the caffeine, but I don't like the bitterness of straight black coffee."

"Oh." She nodded and then allowed him to lead her to a small round table near the window of the shop.

"So, uh, what do you do?" she asked as they found a table and sat down. "You already know what I do, so it's only fair."

"I work with the BAU, a division of the FBI that helps profile criminals."

He kept it vague on purpose. He didn't want to risk freaking her out when she was just getting to know him.

"Do you like it?"

"My job is important to me," he admitted. "While I'm not particularly glad that people have to be hurt for me to have a job, it is an interesting one. I can't really see myself doing anything else."

"Hm. Are you – are you profiling me right now?"

"Oh, yeah. You're definitely a weirdo."

"Hey!" She smiled brightly, so he knew she knew he had been joking. "I mean, you're not wrong, but I'm weird in a good way."

Spencer bit his cheek to keep from grinning. "Weird is okay. But, for future reference, I try not to profile random people I meet or my friends. It can end badly."

"Oh, well, that's good to know." She took a sip of her drink, closed her eyes, and sighed with content.

"Good?"

"Great," she corrected. She settled more comfortably into the seat and said, "So . . . what made you want to work with the FBI?"

"Well, that wasn't actually my original profession of choice. I, uh . . . I have in engineering, mathematics, and chemistry."

She stared at him for a minute, just blinking, before shaking her head to snap herself out of it.

"Are you – are you in any way joking?"

"Nope."

"Wow. Uh . . . You . . . you look so young to have that many."

"I graduated high school when I was twelve."

Surprisingly she just went along with it. "That'll do it. At least you're not like a fifty-year old who looks thirty. That would've made this coffee date thing really awkward for me."

Spencer felt his shoulders relax and he let himself smile just a bit.

"You . . . you didn't answer my question, though."

"Right. It was mostly by accident. I went to a lecture and heard someone speak about the BAU and I found it interesting. After that I focused on getting degrees in psychology and sociology. I want one in philosophy just because it sounds fun."

"I like studying different philosophies and religions," she said. "It, uh . . . it helps me keep an open mind about a lot of different things. I work with a group of very diverse kids, ethnically, spiritually. It helps me relate to them when I know where they're coming from."

"I think that's great . . . that you would take the time to learn where they're coming from and not just assuming you know just because you're an adult."

"Yeah, that always got on my nerves when I was a kid. I don't wanna be like that."

She took another sip of her drink before grinning. "You wanna play a game?"

"Games can be fun."

"Okay, so . . . how about twenty questions, just so we can get to know each other better. Considering we've only known each other since yesterday, we should keep them light and not too personal, yeah?"

"Okay. How about we each only do ten, though. We could be here all day. I, uh, tend to talk a lot. And to make it so we don't ask anything too personal, we both have to answer each question. It'll keep us from asking anything we don't want to answer ourselves."

"That works."

"Well, ladies first," he said.

He noticed as her cheeks turned pink, but she still went first anyway.

"Okay, starting out simple. Favorite color?"

"Purple. If we see more of each other, you'll learn I wear it a lot."

"Mine is blue, in general, but I tend to wear darker colors."

"Favorite book?" Spencer took his turn.

"Oh, gosh, that should be off limits. I read too much to have a favorite. I can tell you growing up it was probably Harry Potter, but that's probably true for most people who like fantasy."

"That's fair. I have an affinity for old English literature, but that's because my mom would read it to me when I was growing up. She taught English at a university. My personal favorite is science fiction, though. Your turn."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Las Vegas."

"Okay, I wasn't expecting that." She shrugged. "I've lived in Virginia all my life. I'm originally from a town about an hour and a half from here."

"Favorite TV show?"

"Supernatural, probably, but The Flash comes in close second."

"Mine is probably Doctor Who, but Star Trek is great too."

She made a weird face at him. "I have to confess I've never really seen either of those."

"What?" He acted scandalized. "That's – that's – you've been deprived of great TV."

"Well, okay, I've seen bits and pieces and I was kind of lost in Star Trek, and I've only seen a few of the Doctor Who episodes where David Tennant was in it. I mean, I wouldn't mind watching either of them, just nobody else that I know is into it and I don't like binge watching a show by myself."

"Oh. Understandable." He took a deep breath and bit his lip before continuing. "Well . . . not to be too forward, but you know someone who's into those things now."

She gave him a look that asked if he was saying what she thought he was saying and he grinned.

"My work schedule can be crazy, but I would love to introduce you to the greatness of Star Trek and Doctor Who when I have time off. Uh, with the work I do I have to travel a lot, so . . ."

"Oh. Right. Well, ya know, maybe like a couple episodes every time you're home. You might have to explain some of the science stuff from Star Trek."

His bright grin softened and he said, "I think I'd really like that."

By the time they were done with their coffee, they both knew more about the other and they were already planning on seeing each other again some time in the future. Spencer found out that her library days were usually reserved for Fridays after five. She liked having time to scan the stacks and if she did it on other days, she usually felt rushed. He figured she'd given him that information simply to let him know that she was open to him meeting her there on any given Friday without even letting her know beforehand.

They walked back to his apartment building. He didn't invite her inside, but she didn't seem to expect him to. She didn't seem offended at all. In fact she just smiled at him and asked if she was allowed to call him as well. She didn't want to risk interrupting him in the middle of a case.

"If I don't answer, that'll be why. But if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as I can."

"Okay. Well, until next time then . . ."

"Until next time."


	4. The Team Finds Out About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this one!

Spencer's team didn't find out about her until he'd known her for three months. He was a pretty private person, and he hadn't planned on telling them yet, but the team had all made plans to go out on a Friday night after work since they didn't have a case. The thing was that he already had plans and since he never had plans, they all wanted to know what was going on.

What was going on was he was in the middle of Star Trek and he wasn't watching it alone.

"Pretty Boy has himself a girlfriend," Derek said, grinning, teasing like he always did. It didn't really bother Spencer anymore. He knew Derek would never tease him with a harmful intent behind it.

"No, I –"

"Oh, who is it?" Penelope broke in. "Do we know her?"

"No. We met at the library, and she's not my girlfriend. I haven't known her that long."

"But you've invited her into your apartment?"

"Well, yes, to watch Star Trek."

Spencer knew what they were talking about, though. He had a thing with his personal space. He didn't let just anybody into it. For him to let her in his apartment meant that he felt some kind of attachment to her.

He regretted telling them her name, though, because Garcia literally pulled up her personal history and a background check, which Spencer was not okay with even if he was curious. He could just ask her and she wouldn't mind telling him. She was an open book.

"You sure you don't want to know?"

Derek and Spencer had followed Garcia to her tech room and she'd gotten done in less than five minutes. There obviously hadn't been much to find, which was good. That meant there weren't any skeletons in the closet.

"As long as there's nothing bad, I don't need to know."

"Well, there's no criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket."

"She's a very safe driver."

"You've let her drive you around?"

"Sometimes . . ."

He began to fidget. This was why he didn't let people in on his business. They always had questions and they wouldn't leave him alone about it. It really wasn't a big deal. Okay, it kind of was, but still . . .

"What's she like?" Derek asked.

"She's . . . I don't know – our first conversation was about books. She was having trouble reaching a book on the top shelf because she wasn't tall enough, so I got it for her, and she had a basket of books she was checking out and – "

"A whole basket?"

"She likes to read," he said and shrugged. "We talked for a while and we went out for coffee that weekend. She didn't treat me like a freak when she found out how many I have or how many Bachelor Degrees I have."

Neither Derek nor Garcia said anything about the freak thing, because some people did have an adverse reaction when they found out how smart Reid was.

"Does she know what you do?"

"Yeah. We – we try to hang out when I have time off. Or when she does. She stays pretty busy. She has two jobs."

"She runs a youth center and works at a Jr. High as a guidance counselor," Garcia supplied for Derek.

"She calls it her baby," Spencer said. "Anyway, we just – we just get along. We can talk about anything and she doesn't mind when I don't know when to stop talking, so that works, and she's smart –"

"She was one of the highest scorers for her college entrance exam. Top five percent," Garcia said, looking at one of the computer screens. "She took five, sometimes six, classes at a time, and still kept an A average in most of her classes."

Okay, so Spencer hadn't known that part, but he didn't need to know every little detail of her life. They were just friends.

"That's – stop. I'm good not knowing. I didn't need to know that to know she's intelligent. She can keep up with my train of thought, so –"

"That's a miracle right there, Boy Genius."

Spencer grinned and shook his head. "It's great. She's letting me explain the science behind Star Trek as we watch it."

"That's – that's commitment right there. When can we meet her? Why don't you invite her out tonight?"

"How about I don't? I don't know how she'd feel about me just springing this on her last minute." Then, "I'll ask her how she feels about it and maybe we can do it next time. Just . . . don't embarrass her."

"Is she easily embarrassed?" Garcia asked. And then, "You know, I can't find this girl on social media at all. What's up with that? There's her professional email for the school and that's it."

Spencer remembered she'd told him one time that she hated technology. She could type on the computer and that was about as far as her knowledge went. The kids at the youth center had had to show her the different apps on her phone and how they worked.

"She's not great with technology."

Garcia seemed offended, and Spencer shrugged. He wasn't great with technology either.

"To answer your question . . . she's not easily embarrassed, exactly, but she does blush a lot." When Derek's eyebrows shot up Spencer was quick to say, "Shut up, and you're not allowed to tease her if she decides she wants to meet you guys."

"We would never make her uncomfortable, Reid," Derek said, serious now.

"I know that, but you tease people. It's part of who you are. Just . . . wait for her to get to know you first, so she knows you don't mean anything by it. It's how you show affection."

As if Derek had to prove Spencer was right, he said, "Have you kissed her yet?"

"What? No!" And then, "She's not my girlfriend!"

He decided now was the time to leave. He felt like he was in a bad teen movie – not that he'd seen many of those – and he was confused as to why he hadn't extricated himself from the tech cave sooner.

As he was walking back to his desk, he wondered how long it would take for the rest of the team to find out about her. There was no way Morgan and Garcia were going to keep their mouths shut about it.

As it turned out, Garcia was the one to spill the beans and everyone knew by the time they went out that night. None of the others made as much of a fuss about it and Spencer was grateful. They all seemed interested in meeting her though.

When he asked why, Derek said, "Because she's gotta be special if she caught your interest, Pretty Boy."

"Yeah, we have to meet her now," JJ said. "From what you've said, she sounds amazing."

He didn't say it, but he did think she was amazing. She was kind and bright, and had nothing to do with his job. She brought him a kind of peace that he hadn't known for a long time, since before he'd started working.

He loved his job and he couldn't imagine doing anything else, but that didn't mean the cases didn't bother him or stay with him, sometimes keep him up at night or bring him nightmares when he did sleep. He didn't have to think about murder or rape or kidnapping when he was with her because she wasn't part of the team. She was something far from them, set apart from his job. That was one of the reasons he hadn't thought to introduce her to his friends. He didn't want to mar his friendship with her by maybe bringing that part into it.

He would, however, ask how she felt about meeting his team members. He had said he would, and he didn't like lying. He hoped it didn't change anything between them. He still wanted her as his TV show buddy. As she had said when they'd had coffee, it wasn't fun binging a show on your own.


	5. You meet the team

Spencer put the car in park as he pulled into the driveway of her house. She usually drove to his apartment when they were going to spend time together, but this time he was going to drive her to Rossi's house. Rossi was planning on cooking dinner that night, and the team was finally going to get to meet her.

He'd asked her if it was okay with her and she'd given him a bright smile. "Of course I want to meet your friends," she'd said. "They're an important part of your life."

He'd warned her about Derek maybe teasing and flirting with her and that she shouldn't take it seriously. He'd back off if it made her uncomfortable at all.

He'd also given her brief descriptions of the rest of his team members so she would know what to expect. She'd been really open to meeting them and he had been relieved even if he did have a few misgivings about bringing her into the fold.

Now here he was walking up to her door and knocking on it. When she opened the door, his breath caught for a few seconds. She was wearing a black shirt, long-sleeved, tight but not provocatively so, and a black-and-white checkered skirt that stopped just above her knees. Her choice of shoes were black flats.

He must've stared too long or taken too long to respond because her face fell a little.

"Is this too much?" she asked, gesturing to her outfit.

"What? No!" He smiled shyly and said, "You just look really . . . beautiful. You look beautiful."

It was her turn to give a shy smile. "Thank you. I – I wasn't sure what to wear, so I decided nice but not fancy."

"Garcia will probably be wearing a skirt, so you're fine."

Spencer watched her close and lock the door and then they walked to his car. He stopped walking when they reached it, and she turned to him, question in her eyes.

"Uh, I don't usually drive girls around."

"Okay. I – I know you prefer walking when you can."

He sighed. "Are you – are you the kind of girl who wants a guy to open the door or are you the kind who would get offended if I open the door for you?"

"That depends. If you opened the door for me, would it be because you're babying me in any way?"

"What? No! I just – I'm old-fashioned, so –"

"Spencer," she cut him off. "I'm teasing you. You can open the car door for me. It's nice. However, I open my own door getting out because I'm too impatient to wait for someone to open it for me."

"Duly noted."

Once they were in the car, it didn't take long for Spencer to get going. He didn't have music playing while he was driving because he didn't want to get distracted, but he didn't mind when she started talking to him.

"Where did you get this car?" she asked. "It's from the 60s, isn't it?"

"Mid-60s, yes. I like the older models better. This is probably the only thing I've ever outright splurged on."

"Well, you said you were old-fashioned." She grew serious after that and said, "Spencer?"

He couldn't look at her because he was driving, but he let her know he was listening.

"There's something you should know before we get to the house."

"Okay."

"Sometimes I have a very short socialization meter. It's worse if I'm in a loud place, which is why I asked for us not to meet at a bar or a club. I can usually do a couple hours at a time and then I kind of start zoning out. I just wanted to warn you because you've never seen me that way before, because it's usually just you and me and I don't feel drained with you at all, but if I'm in groups sometimes I do get that way. I didn't want you to think I'm rude or that I don't like your friends if I suddenly stop talking as much. I'm still there mentally, I just don't contribute as much once my introvert meter is full. How long that takes depends on what kind of day I've had."

It was true that Spencer had never seen her when her 'introvert meter' was full, but he had noticed before that certain things seemed to get to her. She didn't like loud noises, especially if they were sudden. Sometimes her shoulders would draw up towards her ears if a car with a loud motor went by, and don't even get her started on motorcycles or people going by with the bass pumping in their cars.

He'd also noticed that she couldn't stand to be in bright places. She had even told him once that if it was too bright outside, the place behind her eyes would start to hurt and she would get a headache. She loved overcast days because she could go out without sunglasses.

Spencer never told her, but what she kept experiencing was a form of sensory overload. She never got irritated with anyone as some people did when they experienced it, but she did become agitated in her movements. She would start bouncing her knee up and down or she would start picking at her fingernails.

"Sometimes I have bad days too," he admitted quietly. It wasn't really something he liked talking about, but she'd been open with him. He felt he owed it to her to be the same. "With the noise and the lights. I get migraines sometimes. Sometimes the activity around me gets to me too."

He heard her let out a little laugh.

"We chose the wrong professions. We don't like commotion but you became an agent with the FBI and I chose to work at a school and a youth center. We have nothing but commotion."

"To be fair, it's probably because we deal with commotion at work that we don't want it in our lives outside of it."

"I never thought of it that way," she admitted. "Makes sense."

They kept the conversation light for the rest of the way to Rossi's house. He laughed at her expression of awe when he pulled into the driveway.

"The FBI doesn't pay this well," she exclaimed.

"I told you he was an author."

"Not all authors are paid this well either."

"You're not wrong."

They walked up to the front door together. Spencer noticed that his team members cars were already there, so they were the last to arrive, which didn't surprise him at all.

JJ was the one who opened the door when he rang the doorbell. She was all motherly warmth and bright smiles and the woman beside him seemed to take to JJ immediately.

They made their way to the kitchen, where Rossi was already cooking. The spent the first thirty minutes in there talking and getting a feel for each other.

Spencer could tell that she really liked Rossi – he had a warmth about him too, like a grandfather who likes to dote on his grandchildren – and she got along with Emily really well. She didn't seem to know how to take Hotch, which Spencer understood. Hotch could seem aloof to people who didn't know him well. She seemed overwhelmed by how excitable Garcia could get, but she was able to find things in common with her as well. Morgan behaved himself, flirted only slightly, and she seemed okay with that too.

Unlike Garcia and Morgan, the rest of the team hadn't felt the need to look his new friend up, so they were learning about her the normal way – by asking her questions.

Spencer even learned a few new things about her – mostly about her family. He hadn't asked her much about that area of her life because he wasn't really ready to tell her about his yet.

She was really close to her mom, but her grandmother had been her primary caregiver growing up. She'd picked up her love of reading from her grandmother, who had read to her as a child. She wasn't really close to her dad or her brother, but they were still a part of her life.

"Reid says you run a youth center," Morgan said. "Is that hard to do while working full-time at a school?"

"Not really. I have friends who help a lot during school hours, but most of the time it's not busy until after school. I'm mostly in charge of the paperwork part of the place, anyway. Making sure thing run smoothly."

"What kind of things do the kids get to do there?"

"Well, there's a quiet room for the ones who want to do their work or for the ones who need help with school work. There's a game room where they can play video games or pick out a movie, play pool, things like that. There's a small gym, a workout room . . . picnic area outside."

"Okay, even I didn't know it had all that," Spencer admitted.

She shrugged, but he could tell she liked talking about it. "I kind of wanted it to appeal to everyone."

"Ever had any trouble with the kids?" JJ asked.

"Not really. I mean, a few arguments here and there over little things, but nothing major. We have adults in each room, so they're supervised wherever the are. We don't have doors just as a safety precaution, for them and for us. Even though they're my friends and I trust them, there have to be at least two adults present in each room. No one adult is allowed alone with the children at any time."

"Smart," Morgan said.

"I try to be," she quipped. "Then we have the cameras spaced throughout the inside and definitely outside in the play area. With the way things happen today, I really just wanted to take every precaution I could think of."

During dinner, the conversation was more even-sided. She got to learn more about his friends and what she had in common with them. She and Garcia loved animal videos; she was a cat person like Emily; she had a maternal streak to match JJ's. She had less in common with the others.

She still didn't seem to know how to take Hotch, but she had no problem conversing with him. She was even more open with Rossi. Derek kept the teasing light and innocent throughout dinner and she just went along with it, so Spencer assumed it wasn't bothering her. She didn't seem to only be tolerating it, at least.

It wasn't until after dinner when everyone was offered a drink that Spencer found out that she didn't drink alcohol. They'd never really been in a situation where they'd been offered it before, so he'd had no way of knowing until just then.

They were all seated, spaced out around the room, and Spencer smiled when she chose to sit beside him even though she could have chosen a chair to herself.

He got to see what she'd warned him about firsthand when she started to become less responsive after their third hour being there. It was almost time to go anyway, but he noticed her answers were shorter, less enthusiastic. He also noticed that even though she wasn't as talkative she still paid attention to the others. She didn't just withdraw into herself. Maybe she would if she'd had to do this a lot longer, though.

He'd never really touched her before aside from accidental brushes of fingers when they were at the library – he still had to hand her books sometimes – but he reached out to her this time, touched her on the arm to draw her attention to him. He raised his eyebrows in question when she looked at him and she gave him a small smile, moved slightly more into his touch, and then settled back into the cushion behind her.

They apparently didn't have to leave yet.


	6. You get hurt and he holds your hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: There is talk of a student bringing a gun to school. Let it be noted that there was no intention for the student to use it on other people. There is talk of the student probably wanting to commit suicide.

Spencer was in the middle of a mountain of paperwork when his phone buzzed in his pocket. When he checked to see who was calling, he saw that it was her. Sometimes she would call during her lunch break if she knew he wasn't on a case. Mostly she just liked checking in if they hadn't seen each other in a while. If he was busy, he usually let it go to voicemail and would check it first chance he got. That was what he planned on doing just now, but instead of leaving a voicemail she called a second time.

She never did that because she knew he was kept busy at work when he was there. This was obviously something important; he had to answer.

He got up from his desk and quickly went to one of the conference rooms so he could answer privately.

He didn't say hello when he answered. He started with her name.

"Spencer?"

"Yeah."

She sounded out of breath and weak and he immediately felt dread rise up inside him.

"I – I need your help."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm being taken to the hospital and I don't want to go alone. Is there – is there any way you could meet me there?"

"Wait, what's going on?"

"A boy brought a gun to school with him. I was – I was hurt. They're taking me to the hospital."

That was pretty much all he needed to know. He knew Hotch would let him go as long as he kept his phone with him in case they were called away.

"You were shot?"

"In the arm. The EMT said I didn't lose too much blood, but I hit my head. That's – that's why I sound funny."

She obviously had a concussion.

"I'm on my way."

"Thank you. I don't have family here and you're the first person I thought of."

He wasn't going to question the fact that she had other friends she could've called; she'd chosen to call him.

Like he'd thought, Hotch didn't have a problem with him leaving. Morgan offered to come with him, but he wasn't sure how she would respond to that. He could drive to the hospital for her. She would probably need a ride home if they didn't keep her overnight.

She had already been set up in a room when Spencer got to the hospital. He was only allowed to see her because she'd told them she was expecting him. When he got to her room, though, there was already a man there. He was wearing a cop uniform and she was obviously upset with him even though he was apologizing.

"I had it handled," she was saying. "I had it under control and then you grabbed him. He wasn't even going to hurt anybody."

"I was doing my job."

"Your job is to protect the students. You put them in even more danger than they were already in."

He decided to make himself known, so he tapped the door a few times with his knuckles.

"Spencer."

She said his name like it was relief to see him. She pretty much dismissed the other guy, letting him know that they would talk later, and he left the room. Spencer wasn't sure who the guy was, but he'd obviously been at the school when everything had happened. Maybe he was the on-site officer – almost every school had them now for this very reason and for other lesser problems.

She reached out a hand for him when he got closer but dropped it before she could touch him. He didn't know if it was because she knew he had a thing about germs or if it was because she was too weak to hold her arm up, but he decided he was just going to have to surprise her and grab her hand . . . after he pulled a seat to the bed so he could sit beside her.

She was surprised when he let his hand fall on hers and squeeze a little, but she graced him with a small smile anyway.

"What happened?" he asked her as he began taking in the damage.

Her left arm was in a sling and he could see the bandage wrapped around the area a few inches about her elbow. There was a gash above her right eyebrow. It had butterfly stitches on it, but he could still see how red and angry it looked. Head wounds were always bad, but sometimes they looked worse than they actually were.

He moved his hand to her chin and carefully moved her head so he could check her eyes.

"Do you have a concussion?" he asked, releasing his grip on her chin and going back to holding her hand.

"The EMT said I probably have a slight one. The doctor seemed to agree. I have to stay overnight. If it was just the head wound . . . but they want to make sure I don't go into shock."

"You said someone brought a gun to school. Was anyone else hurt?" Then he said, "I heard when you said whoever it was wasn't going to hurt anybody, but then he was grabbed."

"Yeah. And . . . no. Nobody else was hurt." She took a shaky breath. "He didn't want to hurt anybody. He accidentally shot me when he was grabbed."

"Why did he have a gun in the first place?"

"I think he was planning on killing himself. He brought it from home, he might have thought about doing it in between the walk from his house to the school and then didn't. I don't know. He said he wasn't planning on going home. He freaked out when the metal detector went off and the security officer wanted to check his bag. That's when he brought the gun out. He had it pointed at the officer. They were – they were right outside my office, so I tried talking to him. He's been seeing me a lot this school year."

Spencer wanted to know more, like what she had said and how the boy had responded and why the security officer had grabbed the boy if she had everything under control.

"The school went on lockdown and the actual police were called. That freaked him out even more. I told him that he could, you know, put the gun down, that he hadn't hurt anyone yet, but he probably would if he didn't calm down. I mean, by that time he was just waving the gun around. It took a while, but he eventually started cooperating with me. He was gonna put the gun down and he was going to let me walk him outside, place him in police custody. Then that officer grabbed him and the gun went off."

She turned her hand over underneath his and laced her fingers through his. He let her, even returned the pressure when she squeezed, just to let her know it was okay. She had tears in her eyes now, but none had fallen. Her voice was rough and raspy. He knew she was trying to keep it together.

"You know, I – I wasn't even supposed to be out in the hall. I was supposed to be locked in my office. That's what happens when we're on lockdown. The teachers lock their doors and keep the kids in and the offices are locked too. But I couldn't do that. The first bell hadn't even rung yet, and there were still kids in the hall. Some of them were herded into classrooms, but not all of them. There was no way I could lock myself away when the kids could've been in danger."

A surge of certainty went through Spencer then, certainty that he wanted this woman in his life as more than just a friend, certainty that he needed to let her know that – but not right now. He didn't want her to have to deal with his emotions on top of her own right now, and he didn't want to throw anything at her that would make her have to think about what the future could hold for them, not when she was vulnerable already. But he knew – he knew he loved her already and could continue loving her for the rest of his life if she would let him.

"Of course you couldn't." He waited a few seconds and then, "How bad is your arm?"

"It went right through the muscle, took a good chunk out of it, but they were able to stop the bleeding fairly quickly. They gave me something for the pain, so right now I'm okay. Once that wears off, I'm not sure."

"What did they give you?"

"I don't know. They told me but I wasn't really listening. I know it's not morphine because I'm allergic. It worked fast, whatever it was. Like literally a few seconds after they injected it . . . I was relaxed and not in pain. I think they're prescribing something for me to take home with me tomorrow. Percocet or something."

"Have you ever taken a narcotic before?"

"Yeah. Mostly they just make me sleep."

She got quiet for a moment, more in control of herself now.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "I didn't want to bother you at work, but –"

"It's fine. This is – I'm glad you called me. I'm glad you're okay." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Also, if something is wrong, you never have to wonder whether you can call me."

The smile she gave him this time was grateful. "Okay."

She slowly began to drift off into sleep, but just as her eye lids began to close she opened them again.

"Spencer?"

"Hm?"

"You too."

"What?"

"You can call me too. When something is wrong. Just thought I should get that out there."

"I'll, uh . . . I'll take you up on that when you're feeling better."

"Good.


	7. Daddy Issues?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: this is a continuation from the last part. She opens up a lot due to the fact that she's on pain medicine. The college graduation part of this actually happened to me and I just thought I'd add it in.

Spencer stayed with her during visiting hours and through the night. She was allowed one person to stay with her and she had chosen him. His friends had come by to see her, Garcia bringing a teddy bear and flowers, and then her friends had come by as well. None of them had stayed too long, mostly because she had started to become overwhelmed but also because she'd gotten a headache and started to feel nauseated from the head wound. It was normal for someone with a concussion to experience those things, so he wasn't that worried.

Spencer hated hospitals – germs, the weird lights, just everything about them was unsettling to him – but he'd found that he couldn't say no when she'd asked him to stay. Knowing she would need a ride home tomorrow he'd even offered to take a personal day.

"You shouldn't take a personal day just for that. There are probably other things you'd like to do."

"You're gonna be in a lot of pain tomorrow," he said. "I mean, you're not going to be able to use your arm really, and you're still going to have a headache – you might have that for a while. You need someone to take you home and I really don't mind taking a personal day and spending it with you."

"I . . . Okay."

Her cheeks took on a pink tint, which really showed up since her face was otherwise pale due to blood loss and shock – even though she claimed she was fine.

He hadn't really left her side since he'd gotten there even when she had drifted in and out of sleep between other people visiting. He'd gotten up to go get food and coffee and that was it.

"Spencer?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for everything. For coming when I called and staying because I asked you to. I'm – I'm really not used to that."

"What? Someone being a good friend?"

"No. A guy being nice to me without wanting something in return. I mean, even my dad doesn't really talk to me unless he needs something from me."

"I'm sorry. I, uh . . . never really knew my dad. He left when I was young and what I do remember isn't great. I think he wanted a more normal family."

"Oh. Well, that's on him. Not you."

Spencer still hadn't talked to her about his mother and all he'd gone through with that and he honestly didn't know when he should bring it up. He knew if he really wanted to be with her that he would have to be honest about it so that she wouldn't possibly be going into something blind, but now definitely wasn't the time to bring it up. He did know that.

"I think . . . I think the reason I like you so much is because you're, like, the exact opposite of my dad."

"Uh-oh. Latent daddy issues?" he teased.

She shook her head and laughed a little. "No. And don't make me laugh. It's not helping my head at all."

"Sorry, sorry." He smiled. "What did you mean then?"

"Well, just little things mostly, but you're already different in that the last time I was in the hospital my dad never even came to see me and he kind of got annoyed at me when I called him. I was still living with my grandmother at the time so he wasn't even that far away and he didn't come see me. Didn't ask how I was when I talked to him."

"I would never not come see you if you were in the hospital. And I'm never annoyed when you call me. I like hearing from you."

She went on as though he hadn't spoken, but he knew she'd heard him.

"He's always late. If he says he's going to be somewhere at a certain time, you can bet he's going to be at least an hour later than that. He has no time management skills at all. You've never kept me waiting – ever."

Spencer noticed that her voice was getting softer and he was sure she was going to talk herself to sleep. It was getting darker and the nurse had given her medicine to relax her, so it wouldn't be abnormal for her to fall asleep from it.

"You know, he even almost missed my college graduation. He knew the ceremony was at 11:00 and he waited until the morning of to go to the laundromat – the washer at his house was broken, and don't even get me started on how long it took him to get a new one. But anyway, it fits his pattern. He's late for everything – bills, insurance, even getting the tags on his car renewed, which meant I chauffeured him around a lot when I lived near him. He knew I would do it, so why bother?"

Now her voice was soft because she had tears in her eyes and was about to cry. Spencer realized the medicine must've made her thoughts and mouth a little looser. She'd never really talked about her dad before.

"I used to be afraid of him. He could get so angry, and I've never seen you angry. I mean, yeah, you've been upset, but you never shout or hit things or throw things."

Spencer's back stiffened as tension filled him. For one, he hoped she wasn't implying what he thought she was, and two . . . he hoped she didn't regret telling him this when the medicine wore off.

"He was angry a lot when I was a kid. But the worst was that you could do something one time and he'd be fine with it. The next time you do it, he would pitch a fit. I would walk on egg shells around him a lot of the time. I'm glad I didn't actually live with him. I mean, he never hurt me or anyone else, but he would still hit the wall or something, still scare us sometimes."

Spencer had no clue what to say to any of that and sometimes the best thing to do was just listen and not say a word, so that was what he did. He did, however, let himself process that she'd been through a form of mental abuse as a child – she probably didn't even consider it that. Victims of abuse sometimes didn't think of what they went through as abuse. Some even came to think of it as normal.

"He was really hard to get close to. I mean, you couldn't even have a conversation with the guy. He would stop talking to you if you didn't agree with what he said."

"I love talking with you," he said. "I wouldn't stop talking to you just because we don't agree on something."

Her not liking loud or sudden noises made sense now – not that sensory overload didn't make sense, but this could be another reason for it. She'd grown up around yelling and anger.

"And, to be honest, you're not someone I can imagine being mad at or not enough to shout at you. I don't get that type of angry. I don't want you to ever be afraid of me."

"I never have been," she said. "Despite you being a profiler, you're pretty open emotionally . . . or at least you have been with me.

"I have," he agreed. It was almost disconcerting to him. "Anything else I need to clarify?"

"I don't know. I – he never physically left my mom, but sometimes it was like he did. He would go years without a job and she'd have to make do on a minimum wage job – retail or something like that and sometimes she'd have to not pay a bill just so they would have food on the table. And he was there. That's the thing. He was physically there, he just wouldn't be working or providing for his family, for my mom and my brother. It used to make me so mad and I wasn't even living with them."

Her dad sounded like he had a classic case of the Peter Pan Syndrome and had never wanted to grow up. He imagined her dad had never had to answer for anything he'd done as a child and so didn't know how to take responsibility for anything.

"I don't mind taking care of you," he said softly, "if you'll let me."

She didn't respond vocally, but she did let a small smile grace her lips even as a few more tears fell down her cheeks.

"I think you should sleep," he said. "I think the medicine is making you say things you might not have."

"Probably. But I'm glad I'm saying it to you and not someone else."

She calmed herself down and closed her eyes, but she still didn't sleep. He knew because a few minutes later she was looking to him again.

"Can I hold you hand again?" Her voice was quiet and a little hoarse even. "I know you don't, you know, really do that, but you let me earlier."

He pressed his lips together to keep from grinning and offered up his hand.

"Apparently I don't mind with you."

"Hm." She slipped her hand over his and slid her fingers between his. "I will consider myself special then."

"Very special.

It didn't take long for her to go to sleep once she decided to stay quiet for more than a few minutes. He stayed there in the chair beside her that night. Not that he'd been planning on leaving, but after her confessing all of the things she had he would've stayed with her anyway. He would not have left her to feel vulnerable when she woke up the next morning.

In a way, he was glad she'd opened up to him. In a completely different way, he wasn't, because he now felt he really had to open up to her too – especially since he was feeling a certain type of way about her. There were parts of his past he was scared to share with her – things that had nothing to do with his mom at all and more to do with his job and things that had come about because of his job.

She would have to know about them before he let her know how he felt about her because it seemed she felt for him at least some of what he was feeling for her.

He would have to be honest with her.


	8. Pumpkins and Halloween

Spencer had picked a tentative date to go to the pumpkin patch so he could pick up a few pumpkins, smaller ones for his apartment, but had asked her to go with him since it was going to during a weekend. He knew and she knew that the day could change because he never knew when they would be invited to get involved in a case away from home.

She'd told him she didn't mind going, but she wasn't much of a holiday person.

"What?" he exclaimed. "How are you not a holiday person?"

"Eh, my family was never big on celebrating anything, so it kind of rubbed off on me."

"Well . . . I am going to change that. I love Halloween!"

He basically went on a tangent about things they could do. He knew he didn't have much time because they were talking during her lunch break, but he hoped he could get her interested.

"To get you in the spirit, we can pick a pumpkin or two to carve and put on your porch," he said. "Um . . . are you a fan of horror movies?"

"Sure, as long as they're not gross. I don't like gore. I'm more a creature-feature girl."

"I can work with that. Uh, we can go to the park and pick the best leaves, and we'll need decorations."

"For what?"

"Your house! I mean, if you want to . . . it's something we could do together."

"Okay. It could be fun."

"It will be fun," he declared. "You've never been around me during October."

"No, I have not."

He could hear the smile in her voice and he smiled back even though she couldn't see it.

That conversation on the phone was how he ended up having one of the best days he'd had in a long time, though he always had a good day when he was with her.

It started out with her meeting him at his apartment and actually driving to their usual coffee spot. They had a small breakfast there as well, which probably shouldn't have counted as breakfast because it was only a very sweet doughnut for each of them.

They reached the pumpkin patch around noon and even though they needed a few bigger pumpkins to carve, she seemed drawn to the smaller ones.

"We can still decorate those. Just use a permanent marker or something," he said.

"They're cute," she said.

They spent an hour-and-a-half at the patch. Spencer didn't mind because she kept pointing out the different colored gourds. She even added one or two of them to the ones she wanted to buy.

"Did you know that the practice of turning pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns originated in Ireland? They used turnips and potatoes instead of pumpkins, but they brought the tradition to America when they immigrated here."

"I actually did not know that," she said, giving him her attention.

Even though she had never cut him off when he decided to talk about the things he knew, it still sometimes surprised him. Even his team usually stopped his rambling – most of the time because he needed to focus on a case, but still . . . they didn't want to hear him ramble on about things they were in no way interested in.

He talked about pumpkins some more and then moved onto Halloween and the origins of that, which she knew some of already. The conversation stopped when they had to pay for their pumpkins.

She was surprised when he took out his wallet to pay for hers as well as his.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"I know. I want to." Then because he was suddenly unsure, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I just . . . I wasn't expecting it."

Spencer wasn't a materialistic person at all, but the fact that she wasn't used to people buying her things kind of made him want to buy her things.

When they got back to her car with their purchases they placed them in the backseat and headed back to her house to drop them off and so they could have an actual meal that didn't consist of only sugar. It was during lunch that Spencer brought up something that he'd been thinking about for a while now.

"You know, we've spent a lot of time together, but we've never really gone out for dinner or anything."

He spoke carefully, wanting to get a feel for what she thought about it, before pursuing it further.

"No, I guess we haven't. Unless you count dinner at Rossi's as, um . . . us going out."

"Do you?"

She looked away for a little bit before bringing her gaze back to him. "Kind of yes, and kind of no. I mean, it was a big milestone because I know you wanted to keep me separate from your workplace. You never really said, but I could tell. But it was also not just us that night, so that wasn't really a date. I've kind of been waiting for you to ask, but I've also kind of been considering our TV show nights as sort of dates. So basically what I'm saying is that I've considered you my sort-of-boyfriend for a few months now, which basically just means that I haven't even thought of looking for anyone else during that time."

Spencer's eyebrows began to rise. He hadn't read that into their TV show nights at all. It was mostly just her coming over and them switching on who paid for dinner that night. They would eat and watch the show and he would explain something if she didn't understand.

"But you've been waiting for me to ask you out on an actual date."

"Yes. I hope I didn't freak you out by saying that. And also, since you brought it up . . . I'm going to say yes if that helps you out at all."

Spencer grinned. "It does take the edge off a bit."

"Maybe we could go out for your birthday, if you're here. Garcia told me when you were born, so don't think you can get away without me at least taking you out to dinner. Or I could make you dinner and we can do something here."

"That sounds nice," he said.

Later, when they were carving the pumpkins, he suddenly realized something she'd said earlier.

"Hey, does this mean I can consider you my girlfriend even though we haven't actually gone on a real date?"

"Well, I would be offended if you didn't," she said, throwing a still wet pumpkin seed at him.

"Hey!"

He threw one back at her, but they did not let themselves start a full-on pumpkin guts fight at the kitchen table.

"Are you having fun?" he asked seriously.

"I am. The fact that you're having fun is helping me have fun."

"I'm glad. We should make a scarecrow next time we get to hang out."

"That could also be fun."

As they continued talking, they decided the next time they were able to get a night to themselves they would have their movie night and she seemed more enthused to decorate her house now. He wasn't sure if it was because she was coming to appreciate how fun it could be or if it was because it meant they got to do it together.

Maybe it was both.


End file.
